


Chasing a legend

by Slaskia



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Betrayal, Deception exposed, Gen, History, Legends, Tags Contain Spoilers, Truth Revealed, Urban Legends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-19
Updated: 2018-09-19
Packaged: 2019-07-14 10:59:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16039100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slaskia/pseuds/Slaskia
Summary: Late in the war, Megatron seeks a new edge to bring the tide back into his favor.  What he finds is more than what he expected......and wanted.





	Chasing a legend

**Author's Note:**

> It's been awhile since I have posted something that definitely wasn't (directly) connected to my 'Astral Aligned' continuity, so here you go....

Megatron never thought he would be reduced to this.  Chasing a legend.  Desperate times call for desperate measures, however. 

The tide of war had turned drastically against him.  Both due to the Autobots finding new allies and some of his own turning against him.  Granted, those that turned against him were only ‘loyal’ to him under duress, so perhaps their defection was only a matter of time. 

It was something he should have accounted for, long ago.  Now his cause was suffering and on the verge of collapse.  Megatron needed something to turn the tide in his favor once more, before the rest of his troops turn against him.  That was why he was down in these tunnels with a handpicked few, searching for the one thing that may do just that. 

A long shot, he knew, and he had caught the questioning expressions on some of the troops.  They were no doubt wondering if their leader had lost his mind. Perhaps he had. 

What he sought he had scant information on.  A barely whispered legend, spoken in hushed tones among the lower castes.  A being that stalked the shadows, ruthlessly hunting those it chose to be it’s victims. 

From what he learned, at some point a special team was dispatched to hunt the creature.  The bots that returned came back terrified and disturbed.  They said nothing they did stopped the thing and that they were warned to not disturb it again.  None of them could provide a clear description of the creature, aside that it could ‘move like liquid’ and quickly overwhelmed anyone it attacked. 

Quick.  Merciless.  Lethal. 

Unstoppable. 

Megatron _needed_ someone like that on his side.  Convincing it may be a challenge, but that was a simple matter of learning what it wanted.  Everything had a need and he was certain he could fulfill it, if not now, but in the future once the war was won in his favor. 

“My Lord,” Dreadwing spoke up, breaking the silence for the first time after long breems of searching.  “Not to question your wisdom, but are you certain this is not a waste of time?  No one has seen or heard of this creature since the war started.  It may not even exist!” 

“Yes…,” Knockout was groaning.  The medic was constantly brushing off the dust from his frame.  “From all this dust…It’s clear no one has been down here for _deca-vorns_!  Clearly this is a waste of time with only a long shower after to show for it!” 

Megatron rolled his optics, but otherwise ignored the medic.  Knockout he expected to complain about this. Dreadwing on the other hand…that even _he_ was questioning this told him just how risky a venture this was.  It had to succeed if he was to keep his loyalty. 

“Every legend has a basis in truth, Dreadwing,” he replied.  “And if this creature is really as formidable as the legends say…it would be a valuable ally.” 

Knockout had snorted in apparent disbelief.  “Legends are based on superstitions and hearsay of primitive times,” he countered.  “If this thing really existed, it is likely dead by-“ 

The medic’s tirade was cut short when he screamed in shock.  Megatron turned, shining his lamp in the medic’s direction.  Knockout was frozen in terror, his plates rattling, his headlights shining upon the object that frightened him so. 

It was a tunnel raptor, it’s long jaws open and long hooked limbs outstretched in the beginning of an attack leap. However, it was only a statue, a quite well detailed one, Megatron had to admit.  He was not surprised Knockout was frightened by it: it had made him start slightly as well, but he would nearly show it to his underlings. 

“Foolish, cowardly medic,” Dreadwing was admonishing.  “Frightened by a mere statue.”  He then knocked on the statues head.  “See? It is not alive.” 

“Oh, like you wouldn’t have screamed if this thing hadn’t suddenly showed up in front of you in the dark!” Knockout sneered, regaining his composure. 

“As a warrior, I have better control over my reactions,” the Air Commander taunted.  “Still, it is curious on who made this…and why it is here?” 

“Perhaps this creature we seek is a medusa, or basilisk….,” Knockout muttered. 

“A what?” 

“Creatures from human legend.  A simple gaze could turn someone to stone….” 

“So, humans were as delusional as we were in our beginnings,” Dreadwing muttered, unimpressed. 

Megatron frowned, taking in the medic’s words as he studied the statue.  It was very lifelike, as if the very creature itself was turned to stone.  Why would any artist place such work down here?  Cautiously, he reached and brushed his hand against the top of the object:  no dust came off.  This was recent.  Did Knockout’s observation have merit? 

“We must be close,” he announced.  “Let us press on.” 

As they continued on, he thought he heard the sound of tumbling pebbles.  It quickly stopped, however, so he assumed it was a minor rock slide.  As old as these tunnels were, some destabilization and collapse were to be expected. 

A short time later the tunnel they were traveling down started showing more signs of activity. There was less dust and they came across more statues.  Megatron was starting to suspect something was up with these things.  They were always solitary and hidden within a small alcove or just pass a tight turn.  These statues, while the subject they depicted was almost always different, ranging from various dangerous beasts to even bots, the pose was always a threatening one. 

Plus, each time, after they had passed it and it was out of sight, he would hear that same sound. 

Megatron was started to suspect these were no ordinary statues.  Now they were next to a statue of a tunnel crawler, it’s long body partly coiled around a column of stone.  Megatron reached out to break off one of its many legs.  It took a bit of effort, but it eventually snapped off. 

“My Lord,” Dreadwing asked.  “What was that for?” 

“Testing a theory….,” Megatron replied, gripping the statue piece tightly before continuing on. 

This time, there was no sound of tumbling pebbles after they had passed. Looking at the piece again, he noticed there was actual dust on it.  Not much, but enough to show it had been there awhile.  Apparently, this one had been an actual statue.  Disappointed, he tossed it aside.  Perhaps he was wrong about the statues. 

That feeling became stronger when they started coming across a lot more of them as the tunnel widened.  Multiple ones in one place, many posed like they had been frozen in time without warning.  He tested a few:  they all had dust upon them. These were real and still had the same level of detail as the others. 

“Someone has a lot of free time on their hands…,” Knockout was muttering.  “They could make a lot of credits if they sold these on the market….” 

“No longer think these are victims of a ‘medusa’?” Dreadwing asked, his tone teasing. 

“Oh, I still think so…I just hope that before it turns me to stone, it allows me to polish up a bit so I look my best,” the medic replied with a smirk. 

Dreadwing made an audible groan. 

The tunnel finally opened into a vast anti-chamber.  Their lights didn’t pierce far into the darkness, but from what they could see the walls were shaped to make it perfectly cylindrical and they were lined with more statues and carved reliefs.  There were more carvings on the floor, but mostly limited to the outer edges.  As they went in deeper, they saw a large dais in the center of the room.  Its surface was carved with a spider web pattern, a pattern that extended across the floor to an extent. 

Upon the dais was a large egg-like object, a good head taller than Megatron himself.  Megatron could see a simple spiral pattern carved around it’s diameter on it at first glance, but has he got closer, he saw it was crisscrossed with very fine lines in a geometric pattern. 

“Incredible detail,” Knockout commented, looking impressed.  He was reaching out to touch it.  “Must have taken _orns_ to carve this.”  The moment his hand came into contract with it, the object crumbled into countless pieces.  Knockout stood there wide-opticked in shock. 

“Congratulations, Knockout,” Dreadwing uttered sarcastically.  “You just _destroyed_ orns worth of work.” 

“Um…oops…,” the medic sheepishly giggled. 

Megatron sighed and shook his head.  It was a shame such work was destroyed, but it could be eventually remade if the artist wanted.  As he started to turn away to search the rest of the cavern, something caught his optic.  In the middle of the debris pile, barely visible, was a familiar object. 

It looked like the piece of statue he had broken off before. 

_Impossible…._  He bent down and picked it up, turning it over in his hand.  It was indeed the very same piece.  How did it get here? 

Then he heard that sound.  And it was close, very close.  Like it was… 

He looked down. 

His optics widened when he saw the debris pile was _moving_.  As it shifted and flowed into a large pile, Knockout cried out in alarm.  While not daring to take his optics off the shifting mass of metal pieces, out of the corner of his optic, he saw the medic back away quickly.  He apparently forgot there was a small drop behind him, as Megatron heard the unmistakable sound of the bot falling on his aft nanos later. 

“Don’t look at it!” the medic was screaming.  “Cover your optics!” 

Megatron rolled his optics at his foolishness, but he was backing away a bit himself.  Unlike Knockout, _he_ remembered he was a on a platform and stepped down when he reached that point.  Behind him, he heard Dreadwing bring out his cannon, as did the few drones they had brought with them. 

By then the mass had grown back to its original height as the egg-like object.  Then, with a sound that was akin to a heavy rain, it ‘flowed’ away in a stream of pieces.  Disappearing into the gloom of the chamber beyond the range of their lights. 

“My Lord…what was that?” Dreadwing asked, his tone tense and wary. 

“I believe…that was the object of our search…,” Megatron replied quietly, scanning the chamber for a sign of the thing.  Alas, even with his miner optics, they could not make out much beyond the dais. 

From what they just witnessed, however, he now knew that at least _some_ of the statues they had passed on the way here were really this thing.  Moving like liquid was an apt description…. 

“Stow your weapons,” he commanded.  “We do not want it to feel threatened.” 

“Oh, like something like _that_ would be threatened by us!” Knockout protested.  “That thing could be _anything_ in here now.  And you can’t _fight_ if you don’t know what to _shoot_ at!” 

“I find myself agreeing with the medic, my Lord…,” Dreadwing was muttering, having put away  his cannon.  “Despite the sour taste it brings to my glossa to admit it….” 

Knockout was flipping him the human equivalent of ‘frag off’. 

Megatron shook his head with annoyance before stepping back onto the dais and moved to the center.  “Do not be afraid,” he called out.  “We mean you no harm.” 

There was a low rumbling sound.  It took a couple nanos for him to recognize it for what it was:  laughter. 

“I do not fear you,” a voice called down from somewhere to his left and above, in a tone that was raspy, but calm and confident. 

Megatron focused his optics on that spot, trying to make out what form it had assumed.  Then it spoke again and to his dismay it was from a different spot. 

“What brings you here, destroyer of my work…intruder of my sanctuary.”  This time the voice was a low threatening growl, coming from the floor level, left and behind him. 

That it could move so quickly and silently did not bode well for them.  Megatron had to speak carefully if they were to succeed. 

“We come to seek your aid, your allegiance…?” He titled his head in question, not sure what to refer to it as.  Megatron hoped it understood his intent. 

“Kugathun.”  Came the response from in front of him this time, the voice now sounding smooth and sounding curious.  “And for what do you need my aid?” 

“As you likely know, my people are currently in the midst of a terrible war,” Megatron explained.  “Started when the ones in power, refused to cease their oppressive ways and thus the oppressed revolted against them.  I am Megatron, the current leader of this rebellion.  Through countless victories and losses, we fought, fighting for our freedom, our right to choose who we wish to be.  But the oppressors recently gained allies, ones that were tricked by their honeyed words into believing their side.  If things do not change, our rebellion will be crushed utterly.” 

He paused for a few nanos to allow it to absorb the information before continuing.  “Thus we seek your aid, Kugathun, to equalize the playing field, if not turn it to our favor.  To continue our fight for equality!” 

Silence. 

And it went on for several kliks.  Megatron searched the darkness, hoping to see the creature, to gain some insight on what it may be thinking.  Behind him, he could hear the other’s start to shift anxiously.  Considering the legend behind Kugathun, it may not give a Pit about equality. 

“And what would you offer in return for my…aid?” Kugathun finally spoke, its voice now higher pitched, smooth and silky.  At least it was roughly in the same location as last time. 

Megatron mentally smiled, feeling encouraged and confident.  “I could not possibly know what a being such as yours would desire most,” he replied with a respectful bow in the direction it last spoke.  “Speak your desires and I promise you, if not before, but after we succeed, I will do everything in my power to fulfill it.” 

More silence dominated the chamber.  Thankfully, it didn’t last as long this time. 

“Tell me…Megatron….”  It spoke, the sound of heavy footfalls crossing the space in front of him, the tone a deep bass.  “Do you know the meaning of my name?” 

The Warlord quirked a ridge in confusion.  “I could not possibly know.  Forgive my ignorance,” he replied. 

“I shall provide you with a clue then.” 

There was clanging sound, like that of a switch being thrown.  Immediately after, bright lights illuminated the room, temporarily blinding them. 

“Look upon my work,” Kugathun spoke before their optics could adjust.  “Tell me what you see.” 

Megatron looked around for the creature, but right now it could be any of the statues that lined the walls. It could even be one of the reliefs with it’s abilities!  With no other option, he stepped off the dais and approached part of the wall, the other’s doing the same in other locations. 

The first reliefs he studied didn’t seem to have much significance. One was a depiction of various creatures clawing out of the well, one of them looking distressingly like Predaking.  The one next to it was similar, but this time it showed Cybertronians emerging from it…one looked a lot like Optimus Prime.  Next was of a large Cybertronian fighting Predaking and the one after had the predacon bowing to it in submission. 

Were all these reliefs a story it was telling? 

What followed was a shot of Cybertron, with a massive sun behind it.  Streaks of meteors of various sizes raining down upon their world.  This was followed by one of Cybertronians retreating into a cave as those meteors rained downed around them, the Optimus look-a-like pointing the way. 

_This looks like a depiction of the legendary Cataclysm._  

Megatron looked on, the next ones showing a few briefs of their kind struggling to survive against the beasts of the underworld.  He could have sworn one of the bots that were fighting a pack of tunnel raptors looked like Wheeljack.  Then the reemergence to the surface, the reliefs now showing their people forming cohesive groups, forming societies…even kingdoms. 

A sickening feeling was starting to form in his tank as he continued. 

Now he was looking at alien ships descending upon their world.  The Quintessons.  On this relief and the ones after it showed them as their true nature, though with a rough outline of the trickster forms they assumed to gain their trust.  This outline remained until it showed their war of freedom against them, their deceitful forms rightfully shattered. 

History…this was all history.  Which meant…. 

He had to stop the other’s before- 

“My Lord, is this a mistake?” Dreadwing asked from further down the wall. 

His tank feeling like it was full of lead, he joined his SIC there.  Fighting to keep his expression neutral, he looked at the relief Dreadwing was pointed out. 

It was a relief of the moment he poisoned the core of Cyberton with dark energon. 

“You told us the Autobots did this…,” Dreadwing’s tone was one of disbelief.  “But this…looks like you.”  The seeker was clearly shaken by this. 

“This is a mistake!  A misrepresentation!” Megatron bellowed, turning around, looking hotly for Kugathun. 

“There is no deception…only truth…upon these walls,” Kugathun’s voice echoed around the chamber. 

“Well…this guy would have had to have _been_ there to know this, right, my ‘Lord’?” Knockout asked, the last word sarcastically. 

_No…no…._  Dreadwing may clearly did not _like_ the medic, but he would surely agree with his logical observation. 

“Where are you!?” Megatron demanded as he stomped back to the dais.  He had to ‘fix’ this!  “Show yourself!” 

There was a thud behind him.  On instinct, he whirled around, his cannon primed to fire.  Megatron gaped in shock, his cannon lowering, when he saw what he faced. 

Before him was Primus, at least how the believers of him depicted him.  He was looking down upon him, hands clasped behind his back, a small, disappointed frown upon his face. 

“Did you think I would not know of you?” ‘Primus’, Kugathun, spoke, its voice having an almost holy timbre to it.  “I have existed since before your kind crawled from the Well of AllSparks.  My current form-“  It shifted, taking on a roughly bipedal shape, but this form was constantly shifting and moving: it was rather disorienting. “Found and raised by the Thirteen after the expulsion of Unicron.” 

“The Thirteen…,” Dreadwing was speaking.  “But…they are merely folklore, stories of great heroes from our distant past!” 

At this what passed as it’s mouth changed into what was clearly a smirk.  “Did not your ‘glorious’ leader state before that all legends have a basis in truth?” 

“And what you say is true in that regard,” Megatron growled, seeing an opportunity, an angle he could use to fix his situation.  “But history is written by others, others that may have biases, _agendas_ of their own.  To alter and manipulate what had come before to make themselves look more favorable or make their foes detestable.” 

“That is a point…,” Knockout was muttering. 

“It is indeed,” Dreadwing agreed softly. 

Megatron allowed himself a small smirk of his own, knowing his SIC and the medic wouldn’t see his face at present.  That Kugathun had yet to respond only heightened his sense of accomplishment. 

“Those that alter the truth of what had come before,” the creature finally spoke, it’s tone one of disdain.  “Are no true historians.  One that truly cares about the past, the truth, would know to set aside their biases...and personal opinions.”  It was changing again…into the form of Alpha Trion.  “Just as my mentor did….”  The voice was now that of the Master Archivist.  “You think I misrepresented you?  Then take a closer look….” 

It gestured to a section of the wall that was just under the line of reliefs Megatron was examining before.  Megatron approached it cautiously, aware of the other two following him.  There was a smaller row of reliefs underneath he hadn’t noticed before, starting during the Quintesson occupation.  It became immediately clear what they were showing. 

His life story.  The moment he came from the Well, known only as D-16.  His time in the mines and the suffering he endured.  The brief respite from that work when he was called upon the fight the Quintessons…only to be ushered back into the mines once the war had been won, to suffer more. 

He glanced briefly at the reliefs above this row, seeing how it coincided with broader events.  The end of the Golden Age, with the destruction of the space bridges…his first steps into the gladiator arena.  His rise to championship, the growing sloth and corruption of the High Council…. 

It continued on and on.  Showing his rise to leadership among the oppressed.  His friendship with Orion and their subsequent falling out when the High Council chose Orion over him. 

The war.  Developing the Cybonic Plague…using Toxic Energon…taking Trypticon Station by force. 

Now he was at that damning relief again.  The one where he poisoned the core.  He passed it, preferring to see the ones after instead.  Such as the one showing the fall of Trypticon station and when he was nearly destroyed by Metroplex.  Shortly after that, once the station had been converted into the _Nemesis_ , that line of reliefs ended, only bare metal for some time. 

There was a single relief showing him pillaging the arm from a Prime’s tomb, Dreadwing at his side.  Another brief section of nothing.  Then the battle at the omega lock and it’s destruction. There was nothing after that, but the reliefs above it showed the restoration of the planet, but not by his hands. 

“Your life was shown true, yes?” 

That…that was _his_ voice!  Turning, Megatron saw the creature had assumed his form, but it had not moved from the dais. 

“From the very beginning on…,” it continued.  “So why would I alter a single moment if the rest is truth?”

“But there are gaps in his history,” Dreadwing pointed out.   The seeker’s optics quickly scanned the room.  “Many gaps in general.” 

“Indeed,” Megatron agreed, seeing another opportunity.  “How can you know the ‘truth’ if you do not have the whole picture?” 

“Are there any gaps between your creation and the moment you deny doing?”  It’s head was tilted curiously. 

“No…,” Megatron was forced to admit, his spark starting to sink.  “But how can you possibly know all of this!?” he then demanded.  “You are but one being!” 

He was expecting a moment of silence once more.  To his shock, the creature suddenly split into many forms.  Various creatures, various sizes…all ones’ bots usually wouldn’t take notice of. 

“A skill Nexus Prime taught me,” Kugathun told him, the many forms speaking at once.  “So, I could indeed witness many things at once, but only upon this world and it’s immediate surroundings.”  

That explained many of the gaps:  it had a limit on how far it could go!  Therefore, it would not have known about the events on Aquatron, Earth and so on…. 

It was merging back into one entity, that of it’s more ambiguous form.  “I have pieces of me about now…observing the actions of the ones you call enemy.  They know you are seeking something and they are searching even now to stop you.” 

That the creature before him was not ‘whole’ was not the only disturbing part.  He had started this search with very few knowing what he was up to, as he knew the Autobots would try to stop him.  That his enemy apparently knew he was looking for something…. 

“You told them what I was up to!?” 

“I observe and record.  I do not interfere; it is not my purpose.” 

“Then how did they find out about this!?” 

“Some of your minions do not have very sealed lips.”  It was smirking at him again as it shifted into the shape of a service drone. 

Of course.  It would take only _one_ of them to overhear his plans and spread it to the rest of the drones.  With the allies the Autobots have now, they would course pick up on such interesting ‘drone gossip’.  Megatron sighed in exasperation:  the next batch of drones created he will ensure had muted vocalizers! 

Before that, however, he had to somehow fix this.  Dreadwing was looking more and more doubtful and there was a good chance he will turn on him.  He wasn’t so worried about Knockout; the medic was a coward that cared only about his paintjob.  If he left, he could always have Shockwave take over medic duties for the time being.  The scientist would surely see the ‘logic’ in the choice. 

“You say you do not interfere,” he began, trying a different angle to destroy this things credibility.  “But there are tales of you hunting my kind.  And ruthlessly so!  Would not any interaction with my people be considered ‘interference’?” 

It did not miss a beat in responding. 

“I did indeed…hunt…as you put it…your kind,” it confirmed.  Megatron started to smile.  “But I only partook in a small amount of their spark energy.  Not enough to impede or kill and quickly regenerated.  And only enough to read their memories and intentions.  The ones affected barely knew I was there…or…knew my true nature.” 

It changed from again, to one of a bot that he didn’t recognize at first.  Then a memory rose up into his processor…one of long ago…. 

~~ 

_He felt himself buzzing with anticipation he approached the doors to the anti-theater of the High Council.  Just beyond it he could hear the crowd of Cybertronians, members of many castes, if not all of them, chattering.  He could hear the eagerness in their voices, the excitement of what may happen this day.  This day, things would change.  He would get the recognition and power he deserved!  His speech, which he had recited many times to perfect, would surely ensure it!_

_Beside him, he could tell his friend Orion was anxious himself.  He was there to be moral support and may even make a speech of his own.  To supplement and support his own, Megatron had little doubt.  With his aid, he would become-_

_“Hold!” a stern voice announced.  He looked up to see one of the Council Guards standing between them and the anti-theater._

_“We are scheduled to speak before the High Council,” Megatron informed him, feeling a bit insulted the guard wasn’t told of this beforehand._

_“This I know,” the guard confirmed, placing a hand on each of their chests for but a nano.  “But please wait a moment.  Security is doing one last sweep to ensure the safety of all.”_

_Reasonable, he supposed.  The increase of terrorist attacks did have everyone on edge.  Still inconvenient, however and he felt his impatience start to grow._

_Thankfully, they didn’t need to wait long before they were allowed in…_

~~ 

Megatron’s optics widened when it dawned on him.  “You were the guard that day…the day I was denied my destiny to become Prime!”  he cried. 

“If it was your destiny…it would have become so,” Kugathun countered flatly, changing into Primus once more.  “I saw your true intentions before you even spoke before the Council.  I saw the darkness in your spark…your desire to control and conquer.  To become the oppressor, instead of the oppressed.” 

“That’s not true!” Megatron insisted.  “I wanted equality!  Peace!” 

“Through _tyranny,_ ” Kugathun scowled.  “Something you admitted yourself in that very chamber that day.” 

“But tyranny is not necessarily a _bad_ thing…,” Knockout countered. 

“That is only true…”  It took his form again.  “If the one in absolute control is not selfish and power hungry. He is both.” 

“I am not!”  Megatron protested. 

“If that were true…you would not have ordered the destruction of Vos…a neutral city.” 

The energon in his lines froze.  In a panic, he rushed down the walls, looking for the appropriate relief.  It wasn’t in the line of reliefs directly related to his life, thus he had missed it before.  Worse, Dreadwing had beaten him to it.  The seeker was shaking, looking at a depiction of Megatron standing over a kneeling Shockwave, pointing over him.  Right after was an image of the Vos, the massive missile Shockwave had constructed for this purpose coming in. The next relief was of Vos in ruins, a number of seekers dead, injured and lost.  Among them he recognized Starscream and with him was his personal wing…. 

“Vos was my home…,” Dreadwing was whispering.  “I joined your cause because I was convinced it was the Autobot’s doing….”  The Air Commander turned toward him.  “Why?” 

“Ask the Autobots,” Megatron told him, fighting to keep the panic from his face and tone. 

“Why ask them when this shows it was _you_ that caused it!”  The seeker pointed at the offending relief. 

“And you believe _this_ -.” He gestured toward Kugathun and the walls.  “Over _me_!?” 

“I have seen you commit _questionable_ acts during since I’ve joined you,” Dreadwing growled.  “Acts I reasoned then were necessary for the greater good…an acceptable sacrifice!  But now….”  He cast his gaze toward the floor.  “I question if that is truly so….” 

“You do seem to have a disdain for those weaker than yourself,” Knockout added, venom in his tone.  “After all…you were willing to leave Breakdown to die at the hands of _humans_!  Starscream had to go against your orders to rescue him!  Then you went and killed him yourself!” 

“He committed treason by aiding the enemy!” Megatron countered. 

“The problem…Megatron,” Knockout growled.  “Is that you consider everyone that refuses to bow and lick your boots to be your ‘enemy’.” 

“How many of your own have you left to die on the battlefield?” Kugathun asked, using his voice again; Megatron didn’t need to look to know it was in his shape once more.  “How many have you slaughtered with your own hands for simply questioning you?  In contrast-“ 

He heard it shifting and this time he did look.  To his disgust, it had assumed the form of Optimus Prime. 

“The Autobots went to great lengths to rescue their own…avoided leaving their wounded trapped on the battlefield whenever they could.”  It started approaching him.  “Those that questioned their leaders, were listened to…and their concerns noted and taken into consideration.” It, now right in front of him, leaned forward, getting into his face.  “It’s no wonder….”  It changed into Primus again, it’s tone mocking.  “The Matrix choose another over you….” 

To reminded of that, on top of everything else, was too much.  Megatron raised his cannon and fired, point blank.  The creature didn’t even scream as it shattered, countless metal shards hitting the floor like a depressing rain. 

It wasn’t until those shards had fully settled that he realized what he had done. 

He just ‘killed’ Primus.  A representation of him, in truth, but the symbolism behind that and his act was heavy. 

“It was not really Primus…,” he started, lowering his cannon.  “This creature was a trickster…it cannot be trusted…nor the ‘history’ it shows us….” 

“And you can be?” Dreadwing was growling, stepping away from the wall of reliefs.  “I have seen and heard enough to judge for myself.”  One hand was on the hilt of his broadsword. 

Megatron extended his own blade and paralleled his movement toward the center of the chamber.  _So it had come to this._ He was regretting even tracking this creature down!  If he had even a _hint_ of thing being a historian beforehand…. 

Well, it’s dead now.  Once Dreadwing was put down and Knockout silenced, he can erase the damning evidence this chamber showed! 

“You think you can take on the Champion of the Pits of Kaon, Dreadwing?” Megatron taunted as they started to circle counter clockwise next to the dais.  “Many have tried…all failed….” 

“It would please me to be the first to succeed,” Dreadwing challenged, drawing his sword. 

Just as he was about to charge, something caught his optic.  The dais, which was now to his right…it was shrinking?  He was going to ignore it, as it didn’t matter at this moment, but then he noticed movement around them.  That was enough to make him stop and watch, Dreadwing noticing the same. 

It looked like metal sand and it was rapidly flowing around them, encircling them.  Megatron started getting that funny feeling in his tank and that feeling increased when he heard that tumbling pebble sound once more.  A glance confirmed it:  the shards that once made up Kugathun’s body had moved to join this sand. 

_That Pit spawned thing isn’t dead!?_  

Then the sand/pebble mixture rose up into a number of columns.  These then formed into different bots.  Each one baring the face of someone he had murdered during the war.  Autobot, Decepticon, neutral…it did not matter. 

“Hey!”  Knockout complained.  Megaton noted he was still near the wall towards his left.  “Where is Breakdown!?” 

“I did not witness his death,” Kugathun replied in the voices of all the bots.  “But if you insist.”  A new form emerged in Breakdown’s exact likeness. 

“Thank you….”  There was sorrow and longing in the medic’s tone. 

Megatron ignored him, as he was more concerned about Dreadwing...and Kugathun, admittedly.  While the creature stated it did not interfere, he worried it might make an _exception_.  Especially since it was clear simply blasting its body was not going to end it. 

“Are you going to interfere?” he asked it, not taking his optics off Dreadwing. 

“I do not interfere…I observe,” Kugathun replied.  “And I wish to observe this from many angles.” 

“Then be sure to watch closely,” Megatron growled. “For this won’t take long….”  _And you will be next, no matter how long it takes me!_  

He put his full attention on Dreadwing once more. The Warlord was only mildly surprised the Air Commander didn’t take advantage of his brief distraction.  Perhaps he too was surprised by Kugathun’s reappearance…or perhaps it was his sense of honor and integrity that stayed his blade.  He was a fool if it was the latter: a smart warrior always took advantage of a moment of weakness. 

Dreadwing was swinging and twirling his blade around as they resumed circling.  If he had been a novice he would have been intimidated, but Megatron knew the display for what it was.  An act of intimidation.  What Dreadwing didn’t know was that he had seen this kind of display many times during his time in the arena.  Thus, he knew exactly when during the display he would at the most disadvantage.  When right moment came, he started his attack. 

At that same instant, he heard the faint crackling of energy.  A feeling that he had forgotten something hit him.  He remembered the moment the paralyzing stock hit him the back.  Faint ‘for Breakdown’ was heard at the same time. 

Knockout.  He would have been behind him by now.  Normally his thick armor would absorb the worst of the shock, enabling him to continue moving and retaliate.  However, Knockout, being a medic that had treated his injuries many times…knew exactly where his armor was thinnest.  Knew exactly where to strike with this electrostaff to achieve the greatest effect. 

Megatron screamed as his body locked up from the convulsions, leaving him wide open to attack.  Somehow, he was staying on his feet.  He was expecting Dreadwing to stay his hand, hoped the seeker would see attacking him right now would be an act of dishonor. 

Dreadwing clearly wasn’t feeling ‘honorable’. 

The Air Commander was rushing forward as he felt the electrostaff being pulled away.  Somehow, he was able to lift his weapon arm to block, but Dreadwing adjust his aim to account for it.  The powerful warrior sliced through that arm near the elbow and also cut a deep gouge in his right breast plate.  The cut off portion of his limb hit the floor with a thud. 

“Normally I would not finish off an opponent that has been so clearly…disarmed,” Dreadwing stated with a smirk.  “But this is an exception I am willing to make.” He was preparing to deliver a finishing blow. 

_I am not done yet!_   Megatron picked up his cut off arm and used the blade on it to deflect the incoming blow.  He continued using it this way but found it a very awkward improv weapon: it lacked a proper handle to use after all.  Thus, it was eventually knocked out of his hand, the limb bouncing off of one of Kugathun’s forms before sliding to a stop somewhere behind Dreadwing. 

Roaring, Megatron now tackled the seeker.  As they crashed to the floor, Dreadwing’s broadsword slipping from the seeker’s fingers and landing somewhere behind him.  Megaton then started punching the seeker in the face.  However, Dreadwing had two hands to his now one.  The seeker was able to parry one blow, forcing his arm wide, then with the other hand punched him in the throat.  Megatron was still coughing and gagging when Dreadwing knocked him off. 

Even while his intake system still spasming from the dirty blow, Megatron was able to get quickly to his feet.  Dreadwing was already on his own and charging.  They exchanged physical blows, until Megatron was able land a roundhouse kick, spinning the seeker around.  He followed up with another kick to his back, sending him sprawling to the floor.  As the seeker struggled to get up, Megatron saw his broadsword close by.  

_Time to end this._   The Warlord reached down and picked up the sword before approaching the Air Commander, casting a wary optic out for Knockout.  The medic hadn’t moved from beside the likeness of Breakdown and he didn’t seem keen on getting further involved.  He will probably flee the moment he was certain Dreadwing was dead. 

By then, Dreadwing was on one knee, still struggling.  Smirking, Megatron raised the sword to run the seeker through. 

The seeker suddenly twirled around and struck him in the chest.  A pain unlike anything he had felt before shot through his whole frame, only to disappear just as quickly.  Looking down, his optics widened in shock and horror. 

Dreadwing had stabbed him in the spark with blade on his cut off limb. 

“You were right, Megatron,” Dreadwing taunted with a smirk.  “This _didn’t_ take long….” 

He staggered back, the broadsword slipping from his remaining hand before gripping the arm that had pierced him.  Megatron could already feel the strength in his frame fading as his spark died.  Around him, he saw the many forms Kugathun had assumed dissipate and recoalesce into a single, very large, ambiguous form. 

“Do you know the meaning of my name?”  the creature was saying, now standing over him. 

Megatron couldn’t reply as he sank to his knees, fighting to stay conscious. 

“I shall tell you.” 

He didn’t care about the meaning!  Everything he worked for.  All the power and glory he had gained.  It was slipping away as quickly as his vision was dimming.  

“It means….” 

He barely could feel it when he fell over onto his side, then rolled on to his back.  Megatron was seeing flashes of his life before his optics.  Playing out exactly like it did on those damn reliefs. 

“Recorder of Truth.” 

All the lies.  All the manipulation and blackmail.  It all failed him. 

“It was the truth that ended you this day….” 

As the last of his life ebbed away, Megatron found himself agreeing….

**Author's Note:**

> I am not completely pleased with the fight sequence....Megs is not an easy bot to kill off while still having him be the bad ass fighter he is....


End file.
